


Seeds of Curiosity

by Masdevallia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bittersweet, Dreams, Empty Nesters, F/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Older Characters, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Who says Bernadetta can't travel in her other endings, not crimson flower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masdevallia/pseuds/Masdevallia
Summary: “Correct me if I am wrong, but you mentioned it was a dream of yours, to explore the flora of different locals all over Fódlan, and perhaps beyond, was it not?”******Physical gardening may not have been his strong suit, but he still managed to plant a seed inside Bernadetta’s head. A seed that grew all the way to the inside of her heart.Written for Days 1 & 2 of Fernadetta Week (Confidence and Courage)
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11
Collections: Fernadetta Week





	Seeds of Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> In which I say, screw canon, let Bernadetta do what she wants. While I like Bernadetta's ending with Ferdinand, I like to think this is what actually happens years down the line. 
> 
> I'm also sorry for what I did with Hubert and Edelgard. This could be any of the non CF routes. I like to think Golden Deer, but it's written ambiguously so. Please enjoy! I've been looking forward to Fernadetta Week for quite some time now!

Ferdinand had done a lot of traveling throughout the years after the war had ended. Their former professor-now-turned-archbishop saw his talent for governance and Ferdinand was not the kind of man who would turn down that offer, especially if it involved governing _all_ of Fódlan . It was a big task, yet Ferdinand was larger than life. He could handle anything that came his way. Bernadetta knew that better than anyone.

It had been difficult, at first. Ferdinand had taught her all about governing so she could handle the Aegir territory and much to her surprise, she was kind of good at it. And then things got a little bit more difficult when their firstborn had arrived. Ferdie would spend stretches of time away while she nursed their child and managed the Aegir lands. 

But a balance had soon struck. She was comfortable despite it all, and when Ferdie was at home, Bernadetta would have even more time to devote herself to her hobbies, including writing a few books based on her time at the academy (heavily fictionalized, of course) and accounts of her fellow student’s lives during the war and after, and maybe an embellished story or two with a protagonist based off Ferdinand. He actually served as a really good character model, especially as a romantic lead. 

She also had time to make several art pieces, cultivate a greenhouse that Ferdie had constructed on their second wedding anniversary, and devoted herself to raising a loving family, very much unlike the childhood she had. All in all, it was splendid. 

But today...today was the saddest day she had in quite a while. 

“Oh my baby,” she said, kissing her youngest all over his face, her only boy, her mirror image save for how tall he was. She couldn’t let go of him.

“Mother, please!” he said, his pale face red all over. The carriage was waiting for him. He was already taller than her and wearing a uniform with a similar tailoring as his father did long ago, down to the cravat and the sword at the hilt. For the first time in his life, he resembled his father, if only because of the way he fitted in his uniform. His height did not spare him from Bernadetta’s desperate last minute affection. It was a far cry to how Bernadetta herself ended up at the academy, her tea laced with a sleeping concoction and carried over in the back of a cart in a burlap sack. This was a far better sendoff.

“Father, not you too!” Ferdinand was using an embroidered handkerchief to wipe away his own tears.

“I recall when I had embarked on my journey to the Officer’s Academy,” he said. “It was quite like this, with my father bidding me an emotional farewell,” he said. “I did not know that would be my final good memory of him.”

Their son gasped. “Father! Do not die when I am away!” He had also inherited his mother’s ability to jump to the worst conclusions.

“Ferdie!” Bernadetta said, letting go of their son. It was enough for him to move away from her prying grip. Ferdinand’s arm went around her back, which did make things a little better.

Ferdinand was confused by the statement. “My father did not meet his end until during the war, long after our academy days do you not recall, my love?”

“Oh, right!” 

“So father has more time?!”

“Loads and loads of time!” Bernadetta said. “But anyway, at least you’re getting a much better sendoff than I did. I’m pretty certain your grandmother laced my tea that night because when I came to, I woke up in a sack and ended up in the academy.”

His gray eyes widened. “I hope you did not do the same, mother!”

Ferdinand laughed at their son’s theatrics. “I am not so certain your journey will be as dramatic. Journeys these days are oftentimes peaceful. The Archbishop has done a spectacular job of keeping peace within our lands.”

“You too, Ferdie!” she said, now inching closer to her. “Some of the credit goes to you, too!”

Ferdie leaned down and kissed her, giving her a small peck on the lips. While Ferdinand did not mind giving his wife affection in front of their children, Bernadetta very much felt a smidge of embarrassment, even though it also conflicted with her love of reciprocating whatever love he had to give.

Their son’s face contorted in revulsion. “I should go before you two do something no amount of art shall fix,” he said. 

Ferdinand held her in place, as if to prevent them from prolonging their goodbyes. Besides, Bernadetta could see the look of irritation the driver had. “I love you!” 

“Please be sure to send us a letter,” Ferdie said. 

“I will,” their son said, getting on the carriage.

“And please send the Archbishop and Professor Linhardt our love!” Bernadetta said, waving.

The carriage sped off. Both of them sobbed into each other’s arms when it turned around the bend and was out of sight. Their tears lasted for much longer than they expected. 

“Perhaps I ought to make chamomile tea,” Ferdinand said after a spell. 

Bernadetta continued to cry when they arrived at the kitchen. She had placed her head on her desk. She missed not only her son’s presence, but her daughters as well. 

“Do not cry, my darling,” he said, leaving the boiling teapoint to attend to her.

Bernadetta spent each and every day during these twenty five years with her family, watching them grow, and now all of them had left their home in Aegir. Ferdinand did not have that experience. Not in the way she did. 

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, my love.” He rubbed his hands on her shoulders. His massages were always nice. “Let me sing for you,” he began to sing. “ _I've heard it said, that people come into our lives, for a reason, bringing something we must learn_.” The song only made Bernadetta sob even harder. 

“That’s not helping!” she said, dry heaving. After all, the song was one of the operatic numbers their middle child sang in her most popular role. Ferdinand memorized all of her parts, _especially_ the songs and often sang them.

“Oh Bernadetta,” he said, now pulling up a seat and embracing her. “It will be alright, my love.”

“I know...I just…” She hugged him back, wanting to never let go, but he had to go collect the teapot and allow it to steep. 

They were now all alone in Aegir Manor. Their eldest had married a boy she had met in the Academy during the past Garland Moon. A Gautier boy, much to Ferdinand’s fear and exasperation, and one who also happened to heavily resemble his father in everything save for his lack of crest. 

But the Gautier boy, thankfully, did not inherit his father’s skirt chasing tendencies. Since he wasn’t Sylvain and Ingrid’s heir, he traveled with her to Enbarr and took Ferdie’s place once he retired. They also helped manage Varley, especially since Bernadetta’s mother was rather advanced in age. Varley would go to their son since their middle daughter chose to have a career in the arts under Dorothea’s tutelage. The sisters often met with each other and watched over the other. 

And now their son was gone.

“I miss them all so much!” Bernadetta said. 

Ferdinand had poured the tea for them. “Drink, my dear. The tea shall ease you, I promise.”

Even though it was still pretty hot (Ferdie always knew how to blend the perfect tea without making it overtly hot, the one ability in the kitchen she could have), she drank it down, hoping it would ease her weary heart. 

* * *

It got easier over time. 

Ferdie would tend to the horses and helped Bernadetta cultivate the plants in her greenhouse. They had much more time together now, just as they did during the early days of their marriage and it was just as blissful. Their son wrote letters and did so frequently, arriving at least once a week. Even though Fódlan was unified, he was still a Black Eagle through and through, although not a House Leader like their eldest was.

She still missed them and felt the phantom pain of them growing up and leaving the house. Their presence was everywhere.

“Bernadetta,” Ferdinand said one evening when they got ready for bed. His tone was decisive, as though he had something on his mind. 

“W-what is it, Ferdie?”

“I have been thinking...Do you remember all those years ago, when you and Petra led a mission in Brigid?”

The memory was both sweet and sour to her. She only tried to think of the good parts, but then remembered her encounter with Hubert. Hubert, who she also felt deep, complicated feelings for for long, long ago, alongside Edelgard that she never knew how to define, even today. Hubert, who helped her in overcoming her fears in what she now understood was in his own awkward way. The way he saw her with pure and utter derision that day. That was the final time they spoke to one another.

“You are thinking of him, are you?”

“A little bit,” she said, gulping. It had been a quarter of a century since his last stand at Enbarr. She wasn’t there when it happened. She was in a different location, squaring off against Edelgard’s army, while making sure her mother wasn’t caught in the crossfire. When she had reunited with Ferdinand again, who by that point was unlike himself. He was acting the same way he did a month prior when he discovered his father was murdered. She didn’t know until much after the war that other than Hubert’s letter to the Professor, he had written personalized letters to the remaining Black Eagles, her and Ferdinand included. It hurt too much to think of the contents of it.

“Now I am too, but that was not what I wanted to bring attention to,” he said, his tone changing. It still hit the both of them quite hard, and that wasn’t even delving into Edelgard’s demise. Bernadetta didn’t want to open that can of worms either. Both Edelgard and Hubert needed to rest, wherever they were. 

Bernadetta folded her hands. It was too late to start crying. “Sorry, I get kinda sad when I think about that. What about Brigid?”

“Do you recall what you had said after?”

Bernadetta remembered, but that was before war had taken a toll on her, that peace and relaxation became her highest priority, and then, of course, she had gotten pregnant. “Well, yeah. I wanted to study the flowers in Brigid. There were so many carnivorous plants! Enough to fill out a book!”

“I was thinking…” Ferdinand began slowly, as though carefully choosing his words, “perhaps you would like to do that now that our children have left.”

Bernadetta didn’t know how to react to that. “Why? Are you tired of me already?”

“No! No! That’s not it at all, my love!” He curled around her, his arms outstretched, in a way that was like a question, a question so he could sit behind her and cuddle, be a big spoon. This was one of those moments where it seemed apparent his words and body language were saying two different things but she knew Ferdinand would need to explain further. She accepted his question, her back facing his front, feeling the expanse of his still rock hard chest behind her, his arms enclosing. He pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“What do you mean?”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but you mentioned it was a dream of yours, to explore the flora of different locals all over Fódlan, and perhaps beyond, was it not?”

He wasn’t wrong. Bernadetta’s body stiffened, unaware she did so but he had noticed. 

“You are tense,” he said. “Why is that?”

“I...I...Aren’t I too old for that?” Her violet hair had grown out, but already half of it was graying and her face now had a few wrinkles. Not as much as Ferdinand did (she suspected the sun and his smiles were the root cause), but wouldn’t it mean she was too frail?

Ferdinand laughed, his chest vibrating against her back. “One is never too old to explore their dreams, especially when they are healthy and able to.”

She supposed he had a point. Bernadetta had only reached her fifties recently, but both she and Ferdinand were healthy and had been examined by physicians quite often. Ferdinand still knew how to wield a lance, especially since he practiced with their children whenever he could and Bernadetta still used the arrows for target practice and the occasional hunting endeavor both would go on (though she knew better than to go after the bunnies). Bernadetta was reclusive, but still relatively active, especially when Ferdie was around, who was always a highly active person himself. He had gained some weight, but was still fit and could skewer his enemies without batting an eye.

“B-but you had retired. Doesn’t that…” Bernadetta wasn’t sure if bringing up his age was a good idea or not. It would be in poor taste, right?

“I did that for I had accomplished everything I had set out to. It was time for someone else to step into the fray. All of my dreams came true. My concern are of yours.”

“So did mine,” she said. “I married you, of course and…” she turned around meeting his warm brown eyes, “oh gosh, you’re gorgeous, wow.” He could be really distracting sometimes. His hair hadn’t grayed at all yet, but he had cut it and kept it short, but he didn’t have a full head of hair the way he used to. Her hands cupped his cheeks and she gave him a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated. Over twenty five years of marriage and she still felt her body tingling at the sight of him. 

“Please go on,” he whispered, their lips just inches away.

“I married you, made a wonderful family with you, giving them the love I never got and seeing them grow under a peaceful world we helped create, wrote some books…I did quite a lot!”

“You most certainly did! I only wanted to bring up the topic with you, darling.” He hugged her. “That is all. We do not have to discuss this further.”

Bernadetta did not move, enjoying the warm heat trapped between them. She knew she didn’t want to discuss much in general, that was for sure. This was definitely her favorite part of Ferdie being home more nowadays, as she could relish in physical affection with him, which he was always so eager to give.

And so Bernadetta kissed him, and kissed him some more until her lips felt too tired and they would fall into a deep, blissful slumber again.

* * *

Ferdinand’s thumb wasn’t as green as his wife’s but like everything, he was intent on learning, persistent in his plant growth. Physical gardening may not have been his strong suit, but he still managed to plant a seed inside Bernadetta’s head. A seed that grew all the way to the inside of her heart.

Like all seeds, it had started small, with it springing to her mind during the final moments of her day before her eyelids fluttered and she would go to sleep. Then it would strike as she watered her plants. She did order plants from Enbarr often enough, but it did get a little boring after a while. She had tried to request plants from Brigid, but the vendors never carried those seeds. Petra would send her some, but she didn’t want to hassle her for it. Petra had been busy with her own affairs in Brigid and teaching her heirs the things Petra herself never got to learn about leadership with the help of emissaries and advisors. She fought the Empire for the childhood she was forced to leave, and now her children would never know her pain. 

It was all so messy, so complicated. 

Bernadetta holed herself up in her study one day, a few weeks after Ferdinand had made his suggestion. He knew better than to interrupt her save for gentle knocks late at night asking if she would retire to bed with him. One time many years ago, he had entered, intent on giving her affection and it did not end well. 

Here, she had a journal under lock and key. It was all of the accounts she had written during the war. Bernadetta spent most of the time after the Professor reappeared in her room, scribing, but there was a pocket inside her journal that kept a letter. It had been well-preserved during the past twenty five years and in it, was an equally preserved forget-me-not. It wasn’t sent by the recipient, but rather a flower she picked the day she received the letter.

_Bernadetta,_

_If you are reading this letter, then this means that I have perished. I know we did not part on the best of terms, our final encounter in Brigid was rather unexpected and I admit that I was...perhaps the correct word in this instance was “resentful” to see you fighting for the other side. But as I write my final words to you, I have come to the realization that you have chosen your path as I have chosen my own. I deeply wish it were not this way, that we could have forged our paths together. Before I end this letter, for I do not want to engage in anything that seems like saccharine sentimentality, especially to an ally-turned-enemy, I have a confession to make. Seeing you in Brigid sparked the aforementioned feeling of resentment, but it invoked surprise as well. To see you in a tropical archipelago all the while knowing of your reclusive tendencies sparked something I cannot place my finger on. I’m not much for hope, as all hope is lost for me, but perhaps I should place it on you. You’ve always been a curious soul despite your inability to leave your room and even though we do not speak to each other any longer, perhaps you will then use your natural proclivities and spread the seeds of curiosity as I would see you at the greenhouse during the dead of night while our academy days. Farewell, Bernadetta._

_Yours,_

_Hubert von Vestra_

The letter always made Bernadetta feel weepy after reading. Ferdinand had never read the letter addressed to her, and she never read his. It was a secret they had agreed not to share until they were mutually comfortable with it. It had been years since she opened the letter. It hurt too much, and she often wondered what her life and Ferdinand’s would look like if they stayed by Edelgard and Hubert’s side. Would they even have lived for this long?

At the time when she read the letter Bernadetta had interpreted him as encouraging her hobbies, but now that she was wiping the tears with a handkerchief and desperately trying not to sob as to not attract Ferdinand’s attention. But now that she was much older, she realized what Hubert truly meant. 

Hubert had been impressed with her apparent resolve, but he didn’t know what was truly the case. It was resolve she didn’t have, because it was the Professor who dragged her to Brigid, telling her it would be a good experience for her. And it was. But being at home was the certainty of being safe. Was that too cowardly? Yes, but she wouldn’t have survived and led a full life were it not for her cowardice.

“Oh Hubert,” she said, placing the letter back where she had hidden it. 

She distracted herself with a book she liked reading in her youth and through it, found her composure to leave, but the letter did not remain too far from her mind. 

She lay in bed with Ferdinand. He was reading a book and she was working on her latest knitting project. She didn’t know how she would bring the subject up. Not about Hubert, but the seed Ferdinand had planted. 

“Love?”

Bernadetta made a noise of affirmation. 

“We have been invited to an operatic performance. A new opera, in fact.”

“Does our songbird have a leading role?” she asked. She recognized his tone of pride.

“Naturally!”

“Then um...I’ll come.” After all, they would also see their eldest, as well. Bernadetta missed all of her babies. 

Ferdinand set his book aside and embraced her. “I am glad you have agreed to come with me to Enbarr, my love.” He kissed her temple many, many times before she set her knitting project aside to give him her full attention. “I cannot wait to see the sights with you once again.”

* * *

Enbarr was warm this time of year and it really was a beautiful city. 

Their eldest offered accommodations for them. She stayed in the same home that was passed down to the Aegir family during their prime ministry days. She still reflexively mistook her husband for Sylvain were it not for his green eyes. Their daughter had inherited the crest of Indech, her husband, meanwhile, had not inherited neither the crest of Gautier nor Daphnel. Both Sylvain and Ingrid raised their children the way they wanted to be raised and loved their children regardless of crests. 

Ferdinand and Bernadetta practiced the same parenting as they loved all of their kids equally.

Bernadetta would not let go of her eldest until before her middle child’s stage debut. If she were nervous, then she did not show it. “I am so relieved mother has finally let go of me,” their eldest said. She was now the prime minister of Fódlan, but it was by no means inherited. She had her father’s drive and ambition, was class leader of her year at the academy, and pushed herself to the position she was at right now.

“As your mama, I just missed you _so_ much! And I missed you too, my lovely songbird,” Bernadetta said, clinging to her other child. 

“Mama, you’re going to ruin my makeup! Papa, help!”

Ferdinand did not help. Rather, he joined the cuddle pile.

“Ahh I’m being smothered!”

“Your makeup won’t be ruined. You’ll be as beautiful as always,” Bernadetta said. Her middle daughter had inherited a similar hue as Ferdinand’s hair, but much darker, but had Bernadetta’s features. She lacked a crest and a disinterest in managing state affairs. She always had a natural inclination towards the arts. 

“What was the expression?” Ferdinand said, ‘Break a leg?”

“Always,” their daughter said. 

Everything went well that night. The four of them sat in their box seating and watched their daughter and her “twin brother” get shipwrecked. She assumes his identity and serves a duke, who she falls in love with after a fortnight. He is in love with a countess in mourning (who falls in love with the servant) but is also questioning his feelings for his new servant. Her brother appears and the countess elopes with him and eventually their daughter’s character shows her true identity and marries the duke.

Even though the production had a happy ending, Ferdinand was crying. 

“Ferdie…”

“I cannot help it!”

“But this is a happy story! You’ve no reason to be crying!”

When they were younger, tragedies were the go-to genre, but nowadays, people wanted comedies and happy endings, and their daughter lived to star in those. She too, had accomplished her dreams by being a shining star in the opera.

After some more crying and some wine they shared, they retired to the Aegir house. Both of their daughters had spent the night within the Aegir house. It was just like old times.

When it was time for breakfast and she was buttering her toast, Bernadetta had blurted out what she was thinking. 

“I think I’m going to pay Petra a visit.”

There was silence. 

Everyone was dumbstruck. Their songbird was the first to speak. “What? Mama? You’re going to leave?”

“I...I...yes!”

“But you never leave!” their eldest said.

“I um, I packed more clothes and notebooks with me.”

“Ah, that explains why the bag was so heavy,” Ferdinand said, extending his hand over the table for her to hold. “So you shall take my suggestion, then?” 

“Y...yes,” Bernadetta said. “I was thinking about it...for reasons.” She didn’t want to tell her daughters of their complicated relationship with the final Emperor of Adrestia and her Shadow. It was true that Bernadetta often watered the plants in the dead of night, and sometimes Edelgard would join her. It was natural Hubert would follow and watch. It was how they created a friendship. She changed the subject. “Last night pushed me. All of you have done things you’ve set out to do. And not only that, you keep doing and doing and doing some more. And your brother is in the Academy, even. So...so what about me?”

“You’ve written books,” their son-in-law said. “They sold like hotcakes in Faerghus. That’s a dream come true.”

“But I want to do _more_.”

“Your mother has been to Brigid before,” Ferdinand said, squeezing her hand. “But it is her choice.”

Bernadetta took a glass of water and took a large sip, as though her mouth had become dry, and she supposed it did. “Y-yes. It’s scary, but I haven’t seen Petra in a long time and...I’d like to see the plants again. Especially the carnivorous ones.”

“Oooh can you get me one?” their eldest said. 

“Ah, I want a lizard or perhaps a bird from there?” their other daughter said. “Don’t they have those stick bugs there? Or odd centipedes? I would like one.” Both of their daughters had her odd tastes and she couldn’t be any prouder.

“I can try!”

“Very well then,” Ferdinand said, rising up and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. “Then I wish you the best of luck in Brigid.”

* * *

Bernadetta was terrified when she stood on the dock three days later. Their daughters had said their goodbyes the evening before. They were both extremely busy with their lives and Bernadetta did not mind. 

“Love, will you be alright?”

She nodded. “I’m scared! Like what if a hurricane were to strike?”

“The barometers were perfectly fine,” he affirmed. 

“Or a giant sea monster takes the ship?”

“The ships are sturdy.”

“What if I get bitten by something poisonous?”

Ferdinand went quiet. “If Petra is with you, all will be fine. After all, there are nets around the beds.”

Bernadetta peered at the dock. “Final boarding call for Brigid!” 

“I believe in you, Bernadetta von Aegir.”

“I do too, Ferdie. I love you.”

“I love you more than the stars love the moon.” He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her until she was breathless and dazed to the point where she barely realized she was inside the ship. She was doing this. She was really going to Brigid and doing this!

She was going to meet the faraway carnivorous plants and study them. And then she would enjoy the Brigid foods and culture and do everything the way she had once dreamed of. And then she would pick up gifts for Ferdinand and her children.

Bernadetta von Aegir was no longer afraid. She had goals now, and as she felt the winds pick up she knew not only her family would be proud of her but her fallen friends as well. Others had planted their seeds, but as Hubert said, she had the seeds of curiosity and she would scatter them. It was all she had ever wanted.

* * *

Ferdinand was waiting for her in the dock two months later. Bernadetta was unable to move the luggage on her own, so one of the sailors had to help her. 

He lifted her when they reunited. “My love, my beautiful, brave Bernie Bear, whose skin glows with the sun’s caress.” He kissed her suntanned skin. Ferdinand was always naturally more tan than she was, and for the first time in their lives, Bernadetta’s skin was darker thanks to the sun.

“I did it, Ferdie!”

She had filled her notebook with everything regarding carnivorous plants. And she had managed to save a stick bug from entering its trap, if only because her songbird daughter loved the odd creatures. She even brought her eldest daughter a sundew.

Bernadetta stayed in her husband’s arms, glad to be back, but at the same time, proud of herself for setting out what she had wanted to do in the first place. “I got so much done!”

“I am so proud of you.”

“I want to tell you everything! Petra also says hi.”

Ferdinand let go and instructed the sailor to lift the luggage into the carriage’s luggage department. They walked hand in hand as they entered the carriage. “You must be tired, but spare no expense.”

“Well, I know you’re kind of iffy about carnivorous plants, so I will start with figs, which aren’t a fruit, but rather an inverted flower! Did you know that female wasps have to get inside the flower to lay their pollen and…” Ferdinand hugged her tighter as she recollected all of her newfound knowledge and he intently listened. 

And as Bernadetta did so, she realized she wasn’t too old to go traveling. Perhaps she would travel to her in laws next and explore Sreng. Or maybe she would visit Dagda or Almyra. After all, there was no such thing as a single seed of curiosity and she wanted more, but for now, all she wanted to do was be with her husband and publish her next book. 

And then she would travel again, into the unknown. 

**Author's Note:**

> One more thing! These are the same daughters that appear in my first fernadetta oneshot, dandelions! I like to think no matter what timeline this is, they exist.


End file.
